


Let's fly away

by BrilliantlyHorrid



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Daisy is on her own, Don't Ask, F/M, Fluff, Skoulsonfest, Uniforms, but not too much, inspired somehow by a certain lip sync battle, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 00:17:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7595881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrilliantlyHorrid/pseuds/BrilliantlyHorrid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Can I get you anything else, Miss Harmon?” Phil asked, and Daisy was surprised to see he was still there.<br/>“Uh no, thank you,” she said, eyeing the other flight attendants as they whispered in the galley.<br/>“Of course,” he said kindly, “just ring if you need anything.”<br/>Okay, he looked really cute in the uniform.<br/>“And you’ll come?” She asked, only slightly embarrassed by the hopeful tone in her voice, wondering if the people around her could hear.<br/>“Absolutely."</p><p>SkoulsonFest2k16 Redux--Day 7: Free theme!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's fly away

**Author's Note:**

> Delayed slightly! Another one I started forever ago but finally am getting out the door so the references are a little dated. Ah well, no one has forgotten the flight attendant Coulson convo I'm sure.

Leaning back in her seat, Daisy looked out the window at the fluffy clouds below. She was accustomed to _flying_ these days, but not necessarily on a plane. Usually she had plenty of space to roam, could go on her own time, no one telling her she needed to remain in her seat. _No douchebags getting wasted at 10 am._

Daisy would admit it; she was grateful for the _excessive_ amount of space the luxury airline provided, even if the rest of it was completely ridiculous.This was the private jet for the people who weren’t quite wealthy enough for an actual private jet, but enough to feel oppressed by first class.

The man across the aisle from her leaned his chair so far back he was nearly supine.

_What a difficult life you must lead._

“Can I get you anything?” She looked up, smiling at the flight attendant. He looked pretty cute, she had to admit; maybe his crisp white shirt was just a tad _too_ tight, and the little hats they all wore were slightly old fashioned, but it wasn’t bad look.

“ _I_ have a question,” the reclined drunk said, lifting a hand and waving him over. Daisy sent him a pitying look, and if he wasn’t so professional and friendly she was sure he would roll his eyes. She could just barely see it in there, dying to get out.

“Yes Sir,” the attendant said, turning to face the other man.

“So if other dudes start being stewardesses, do you think they’ll actually make a male uniform?”

The guy seemed to be under the impression he was encountering the first and only male flight attendant in the world, or just laying the masculinity on thick to make himself feel better. Daisy had heard of him; standard tech nerd who made it big on a fluke and now got paid to travel around the world proselytizing to other tech nerds under the illusion they could do it too.

“That’s really rude,” she said, having had enough. She was irritated and tired and ready for this trip to be done, even if all signs were pointing to that not happening any time soon. She could use a little entertainment.

Techie sat up in his chair, realizing the person telling him off was the same girl who responded to his come ons by putting her earbuds in while he was mid-brag.

“What?”

Daisy raised an eyebrow, assuming the posture befitting the ridiculously expensive outfit she was wearing, taking on the confidence of not only her wealthy persona, but the real knowledge that she could wipe the floor with this guy on a laptop.

Whether he was too scared to argue with her or just too drunk and tired to make the effort, IT douche gave the two of them a dismissive wave, reclining his chair even more. The flight attendant turned back to face her, and Daisy gave him a look that was both sympathetic and indignant on his behalf.

“I don’t-- can't you like have him ejected or something?” She asked, and he--Phil, she read on his name tag--gave her a puzzled look.

“Unfortunately there aren’t any other seats available on this flight,” Phil answered professionally.

“No, I mean _from the plane_ ,” Daisy said, and he allowed himself a raised eyebrow before replacing it with the consummate smile.

“I’m afraid that’s against company policy,” Phil said, diplomatic as could be.

“Your insurance rates would go up, huh?” She asked, earning an almost naughty smile from him.

“Sky high,” he said, and Daisy groaned loudly.

“Oh _no_ ,” she moaned, covering her ears.

“That bad, huh?” Phil asked, and Daisy nodded emphatically.

“So bad.”

Daisy supposed they were paid to be friendly--very friendly, considering how much their passengers were paying for the luxury experience--but she liked to think the way he was smirking at her was not his run of the mill customer service experience.

 _Stop flirting,_ Daisy reminded herself, thinking about why she was there in the first place. Of course, there wouldn’t be much to do until they landed, but if something went down before then, she needed to be ready. With the current and hopefully brief flight ban on inhumans, these guys had decided to extend from their usual privileged clientele to capitalize on the desperation of those who needed to get from point a to point b, no questions asked.

And while Daisy had to hope it was just them being greedy and taking advantage of those inhumans who had no other option, she feared that the cost of the trip was more than just the exorbitant price tag.

“Can I get you anything else, Miss Harmon?” Phil asked, and Daisy was surprised to see he was still there.

“Uh no, thank you,” she said, eyeing the other flight attendants as they whispered in the galley.

“Of course,” he said kindly, “just ring if you need anything.”

Okay, he looked _really_ cute in the uniform.

“And you’ll come?” She asked, only slightly embarrassed by the hopeful tone in her voice, wondering if the people around her could hear. If the huffy noise from across the aisle meant anything, _someone_ certainly had heard.

“Absolutely,” Phil answered, before giving her one last pleasant--maybe flirty?--smile before checking on the other passengers. Unable to stop herself, figuring she was already being obvious so she might as well go for it, Daisy turned around in her seat to watch him leave.

 _There’s no way he actually walks like that,_ she thought with some disbelief. Was he _strutting?_

Daisy smiled. What? She was just doing her job.  

 

“Miss Harmon,” Phil greeted her as he reached her chair. She had been playing the game for the last hour or so, asking him unnecessary questions, trying to get a couple personal details out of him, but nothing too personal. He grew up in Boston, wasn’t a sports fan, hadn’t been working as a flight attendant long, his favorite drink was scotch but he wasn’t above a gin and tonic once in a while.

‘ _Not on the job, of course,’_ he had reassured her, in such an overly professional way she had to laugh.

And it had been fun. Not quite _messing_ with him, because she was friendly and he seemed to be enjoying himself, but just being a little flirty and goofy, something she hadn’t been able to do lately.

 _And no one here seems to be bothered,_ she thought, noticing that the other staff members had given them a wide berth and the rest of the passengers were either sleeping or focused on their respective devices.

But Daisy was restless. It was time to make a move. She’d waited long enough.

“Could you show me where the restroom is?” Daisy asked innocently, and Phil’s eyebrows shot up before he pulled on his almost irritatingly calm face. He looked down to the back of the plane, where they _both_ knew the bathrooms were located. Then he looked at her, seeming to come to some kind of decision.

“Right this way,” he said, motioning for her to follow him.

Daisy quickly stood before being pulled back down roughly. She’d forgotten her seatbelt.

“Shit,” she muttered, getting a bit red in the face. She refused to look at Phil as she unbuckled, but knew that even _he_ was probably smirking at her now. _So much for Mr. Professional,_ she thought, rolling her eyes at his overly-innocent face urging her forward. Straightening her dress Daisy walked semi-quickly to the back of the plane, delighted to note that Phil was keeping pace. Taking a quick look around, she noticed that she had been right: either the other flight attendants were too busy to notice or had learned not to care.

“Here?” Daisy asked, reaching the door. Phil nodded, opening it for her with one hand and stumbling as she pulled him in with her.

“Took you long enough,” he said, leaning back against the sink as Daisy locked the door.

“I wanted it to look organic,” Daisy answered, getting distracted by the absurdly decorated bathroom. This was a _plane_ , why did it feel like she was hiding out in the shitter of a crown prince?

(She’d only done that once, and this was admittedly smaller. But no less fancy!)

“This is _ridiculous,_ ” she said, pointing at the basket of neatly rolled fluffy hand towels next to the sink. “Those are nicer than anything I’ve ever owned. And they’re _towels,_ ” she complained, pulling a microchip out of her bra. Coulson sighed.

“You don’t even want to see the Captain’s bathroom,” he said, taking the chip and plugging it into his phone. He frowned, looking at the screen.

“Well?” Daisy asked, but Coulson continued looking through her intel. While he did, Daisy jumped up on the counter, already sick of standing in her shoes. Did women really wear high heels on planes? Didn’t their feet swell or something? Wincing she kicked them off, then let out a too-loud sigh of relief. Coulson looked up.

“What?” She asked, wiggling her freed toes. “If someone heard they’ll think--” she shrugged, and Coulson resumed looking at his phone. Daisy took the opportunity to get a good look at him. It had been months since they’d seen each other, with him having to earn the credentials the ATCU couldn’t forge. Not for the first time, Daisy cursed her pariah status with the organization. They would take advantage of some of her services now, but god forbid someone find a paper trail. She would have had Phil on a plane in days.

Admittedly Coulson was not the first choice for the op; a woman would stick out way less. But he was a spy after all, and good at non-threatening cheerfulness, so after Daisy helped him build his case, he was on his way.

She wondered if he actually _wanted_ this mission, and why. May and Simmons could have done it, if ordered, though Daisy had gleaned neither of them were that enthusiastic about the idea. 

The uniform really did look good on him though. The shirt--and pants--were _just_ noticeably tighter than his usual getup, and the hat was just plain cute. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered that she wanted to mess it all up a bit.

She ignored that impulse.

“Are you enjoying your flight?” He asked in his flight attendant voice, and Daisy grinned.

“Oh yes, it’s quite the experience,” she answered. “Hail Hydra’s abandoned bank accounts.”

He grimaced, handing back her chip. “So why didn’t anyone say anything? We weren’t exactly being subtle,” Daisy asked, putting the microchip back in her bra. She hoped it was enough evidence to get the ATCU to pounce. If not, she still had some sneaking around to do once they landed, not to mention keeping track of the one Inhuman passenger she could pick out and making sure she got to her destination safely. Daisy pictured her, looking slightly uncomfortable and nervous in her seat. Not wanting to get caught staring she tried to catch glimpses when she could, figure out what her powers were.

“It’s sort of an unspoken rule,” Coulson said. Daisy narrowed her eyes.

“Explain.”

He sighed, looking uncomfortable. “Well, this isn’t a normal airline, since everyone is vetted so thoroughly the rules are a bit more...lax.” Daisy crossed her arms, a silent command to continue. “Most of the staff on these flights are relatively young, single...And spend nearly all their time stuck on planes.”

It made sense, Daisy supposed. Though she wondered if some of the appeal was lost, if mile high club sex was the only sex you could manage to fit into your schedule.

“So if one of your co-workers finds someone...interesting on a flight, you look the other way,” he said. “If everything is going well and the plane isn’t going down--”

“You might as well find someone who will,” Daisy finished.

“ _Daisy,”_ Coulson admonished, looking delightfully red in the face.

“Come on, don’t be squeamish,” Daisy said, patting him on the shoulder. She looked at her watch. “Think enough time has passed for us to have--” She raised an eyebrow. _Now who’s squeamish?_

Coulson almost looked _offended._ “It’s barely been five minutes.”

_Okaaayyyy._

Daisy wasn’t sure what she was meant to do with that.

“So, how are you?” She asked, sitting on her hands on the counter. Apart from the uniform (well, also with the uniform,) he looked good, better than the last time she’d seen him. He was about as clean cut as he used to be, but the tan was new. She suspected it had something to do with the nature of the crew on these types of airlines.

Sure, he hadn’t been the first choice for the op but he was far from a bad one. Coulson had always been a good looking guy, but the weight of misery and responsibility had been evident on him for a while. Here he looked relaxed, as far as undercover people went.

“Good, ready for this to be over,” he said, leaning back against the wall. Daisy briefly noted that despite the spaciousness of the bathroom in comparison to others, it wasn’t really that big. Even on opposite sides they were close. She kicked her legs out a bit, toes just missing his thighs. Flexing her foot, she winced.

“No kidding,” she agreed, casting a scornful eye at the shoes on the floor. Coulson looked down at her shoes, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re wearing those on a flight? Don’t your feet swell?”

“I--yeah, I know that now,” Daisy said, checking her watch again. “Hey,” she called, kicking her foot out again to catch his attention. “If we have a time minimum to make you might as well put it to good use.” Wiggling her toes at him she was surprised when he leaned forward and actually grabbed one of her feet. So surprised she accidentally kicked him in the gut.

“Sorry!” She said, mildly horrified. Coulson just looked up at her, baffled. “I forgot my feet are ticklish.” _To be fair, I didn’t think he’d actually go for it._

“Oh, really?” He asked. With a straight face he lifted the foot still in his hand and ran one of his fingers down the middle of it.

“ _Motherf--_ ” Daisy nearly shouted, then covered her mouth. Coulson released her foot as she jerked it back toward her, glaring at him. “I could have brought down this plane,” she said, but he just kept smiling at her, amused.

“I guess we’re lucky, then.” He looked down at his watch. “We should probably get out of here,” he explained, and Daisy looked at him curiously. “I’m not sure my co-workers will overlook, that,” Coulson said, gesturing toward her foot.

Yeah, she supposed yelling expletives from the bathroom was something they would be cautious about. But hey, it helped their cover, she supposed. Coulson bent down and picked up her shoes, offering them to her. Realizing how difficult it would be in that dress to bend enough to slip them on herself, she nodded warily.

“You can help if you promise no funny business.” She raised an eyebrow. This was serious.

Phil looked a little caught off guard but lifted her ankle and eased one shoe on. “Where do you go from here?” He asked, dropping her foot and reaching for the next one. He wasn’t looking at her, but Daisy could hear something odd in his voice.

They were landing soon, and she would have to resume the solitary part of the mission. He would fly back, probably regroup with the ATCU who would hopefully act on the information, while Daisy’s sole responsibility would be to be as far away from them as possible.

Depending on whether her work was enough, maybe she would get to come home. But it wasn’t a guarantee.

“Not sure,” she said, watching as he gently slipped the heel on her foot, letting if fall from his hand as she let her leg down. The whole thing was taking too long, longer than it should, but she really didn’t want to leave. “Maybe I’ll go on a shopping spree,” she joked, “buy some sneakers.”

Coulson smiled fondly, looking over her shoulder into the mirror to make sure his uniform was smoothed and his silly little hat straight. Getting back into his ‘zone,’ as Daisy had called it before. She liked watching Coulson undercover, and she always applied what she saw him do to her own experiences. Enough of her character to be someone else, but enough of herself to be convincing. Coulson may play different roles, but she could see firsthand it was always him under there.

“Wait,” she said, easing herself off the counter and back on her feet. “You don’t look right.” Coulson looked at her curiously, eyes widening when she stepped closer, grabbing at his collar with one hand and his belt with the other. She tugged him roughly toward her, stumbling back against the sink as their lips crashed together.

Coulson made some kind of noise that definitely was not complaining, grabbing at her hips in a way that made her incredibly happy she took the risk to basically attack him. Having thoroughly wrinkled his collar, she slid her hand up his neck into his close cropped hair, knocking that ridiculous hat off his head.

Sliding his lips over her jaw Coulson said something that sounded like her name before lifting her back onto the counter, moving between her legs. Things were moving fast, but also felt like they were in some kind of limbo. Maybe because they were both playing a role, or maybe because they hadn't seen each other in a while. OR maybe because they were in an airplane bathroom 36,000 feet in the air. Who knows? Daisy got as good a grip on his hair as she could and pulled him up to kiss her again when a polite but firm knock sounded on the door.

Taking a couple breaths, Daisy met Phil’s eyes, noticing again (or was it for the first time?) what an interesting color they were.

“Just a second!” She called, smoothing down Coulson’s shirt. “There,” she said quietly, taking in the image before her. “Much more realistic.” Phil looked at her, kind of dazed, before backing up and helping her hop off the counter.

“We should talk about that, at some point,” he said. He had a look of concern on his face, beneath all the...well…’ _wow.’_

Daisy nodded, tugging her dress back into place. “Probably, yeah,” she agreed. “A good talk, I hope?” She was cautiously optimistic given the _response_ , but didn’t want to assume.

Coulson cleared his throat, but nodded. “Probably, yeah,” he said, either intentionally or unintentionally mimicking her.

Daisy smirked, patting him on the shoulder. “Well, thank you for the excellent customer service,” she said reaching down and picking up his flight attendant hat. Placing it back on his head--just _slightly_ askew-- Daisy leaned in and kissed him again. There was no surprise or urgency this time, and she could feel Coulson relax into it. His hands stayed at his sides, and she wondered if that was a self-control thing or, like her, he was worried that once they held on to each other they wouldn’t want to let go again.

In the same vein, she wasn’t quite sure what to say now. Phil seemed to feel the same way, looking over her face carefully, a cautious smile tugging at his lips. Were they supposed to say goodbye now? Save it for the “talk?” They were probably going to get kicked out any moment, and she didn’t want to start saying something then let it go unfinished for who knows how long.

Stepping back, Daisy gave him an awkward smile before opening the bathroom door and walking out. Winking at the flight attendant standing there, Daisy headed back to her seat.

Coulson was probably either getting a lecture or a high five, so Daisy took the moment to compose herself. After taking a deep breath, she felt a pair of eyes on her. It was the guy in the seat next to hers. Looking at his flabbergasted face, she saw him look between her and the now-visible Phil out back, putting away water bottles.

A slow grin began to form on her face and Daisy shrugged. “There's just something about uniform,” she said, pulling out her complimentary eye mask and reclining her chair. There were two more hours on this flight after all, and it probably wasn’t going to get better than that.


End file.
